


One step closer

by BetterThanDrinkingAlone (orphan_account)



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Grantaire And Éponine are cousins, Light Angst, M/M, Original Character(s), Pining Grantaire (Les Misérables), Scars, more tags to be added probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:14:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25072963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/BetterThanDrinkingAlone
Summary: Since Grantaire was a child he had huge scars on his face- forcing him to look like a monster to society.Being the only child, his family wants to marry him off, but this has been proven to be impossible with everyone running away from him in horror.Of all people they wanted him to become attached to, they didn't expect it to be Enjolras.
Relationships: Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables), Grantaire & Éponine Thénardier, More Relationship Tags to be Added
Comments: 12
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A prince within a monster](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24094306) by [Get_below_my_line_of_vision](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Get_below_my_line_of_vision/pseuds/Get_below_my_line_of_vision). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At first I was gonna make Enjolras blind but there’s been enough stories in which only a blind character can fall in love with an 'ugly' person imo. So here ya go:

He was never told why or how but Grantaire had a mark which branded him for life. In his reflection, he had a bloody smile. The one which stretched to his cheekbones. Even when he frowned or cried he would forever be cursed to smile. He hated it... 

And so did everyone else.

As his family was wealthy, he had to find a suitor, but all of them practically ran away from him once they saw how he looked. His family would make him wear a mask or a scarf to cover more than half of his face, but it would never work. Especially when Grantaire was tired of all the pretending. Easily, and quite frequently, he would defy his family.

He could remember it quite vividly: when he was fifteen, he faced a brunette boy, freckles all over his face, his eyes hazel, shy. He stammered as he shuffled about in place. Believing him to be the perfect match, Grantaire unravelled his red scarf. Upon seeing his face, the boy began to cry.  
Ever since that day he remembered his name. Marius Pontmercy. And after that night, he knew, even the ‘kindest’ of all, they would all view him as nothing but a revival of their nightmare.

Therefore Grantaire seeked comfort in his mansion, most particularly his spacious room, and rarely stepped out. At first his mother, Edith, and his father, Celestin, protested this sudden shift in behaviour. However when realising how damaged he was, the two left him alone. Wanting him to feel love, they waited patiently. They never entered his room thinking it was for the best.

There were exceptions for example in the family. There was Éponine. Being his cousin, she was able to stay in the mansion as long as she desired. Like Grantaire, she found comfort in his room and filled it with historical relics, bringing charm to the place. But like the rest of his family, she was not confined to the room and would often venture outside and explore the world. Something he could not do.

The closest he could manage was to look through the window which connected him to another room. To the the connected room however, no one could see him, allowing for Grantaire to approach and look out while in pyjamas and eating ice cream. To anyone on the other end, it was only a mirror. A mirror which could talk and had a male voice apparently. 

On the other side, suitors would often come and go, chatting to him, promising him they would not be afraid. Every word that came out of them were lies. All they thought about what was the money that was attached to his family name. Grantaire knew that much.

“Cousin,” Éponine excitedly entered his room hopping across the room as if the floor was hot, “I have met the fairest of all men.” She held his hand tightly to show reassurance; too many times had his hopes been crushed.  
He looked down at her hand. "That’s great.” Grantaire said as he shifted his attention to the empty room.  
“He’s going to come here soon.” She almost squealed, unable to contain her happiness.  
“Wonderful.” He muttered.  
“No, R,” She gently turned him around to make him look into her eyes, “He’s an Apollo.”  
“What are you talking about?”  
“You’ll see.” She shrugged while giggling.

That afternoon, a young man entered the room, observing every little thing he could. Grantaire cocked his head. After staring at him for a minute the man looked aesthetically pleasing. A minute more, he was pretty. Another minute, he was handsome. Then, the man turned his head to look at the window, his eyebrows stitched together in confusion. He was gorgeous.

“Why do I feel like there’s something in the mirror?” The man uttered, thinking out loud.  
Grantaire couldn’t help but smile as he grabbed his microphone in order to communicate to the other world, “Do you talk to yourself often?”  
The man jumped back, his eyes wide, “No way.”  
“Yes way, my love.” He grinned, then covered his mouth with his hand. With all the years looking at people without them not seeing him, he was still frightened they may run away in terror.  
“You must be Grantaire…” The man said, pressing his hand against the mirror. “I am Enjolras.”  
“From which family?”  
He shrugged. It was forced, like he had practised this response. “A bastard one.”  
Grantaire laughed, leaning into his microphone, wanting to be nearer to him. “You are funny.”  
He tried to search for Grantaire to no avail- it was only a mirror to him. “I’m serious.”  
“And I am wild.” Grantaire joked.  
This somehow managed to crack a smile on the man’s face. That was enough to fuel him for the rest of eternity.

The door of the room opened with Eidth stuttering, “Oh- Oh my, I didn’t mean, I am so sorry dear Grantaire, he- this man wasn’t supposed to come here. He was only a guest! Oh, ‘Ponine… She must have--! Oh dear…”  
Enjolras gave the warmest laugh, “No, no, it’s okay. I didn’t think I would meet a person through a mirror, but I suppose there’s a first time for everything.”

A guest? No, no, no, Grantaire wanted to see him again. Of course, their meetings would be a ticking bomb, but he didn’t want him to go. “Mother?” He called out.  
“Yes- yes, dear?” Edith led Enjolras out of the room.  
“Who is he?”  
“He is being interviewed to be a servant here.”  
“Mother?”  
“Ye-Yes?”  
He held his breath. “Can he be my butler?”  
She gasped, “Are you going to meet him in person?”  
Grantaire shook his head until he realised his mother could not see him. “No. I… Just want a friend.”

Slowly, light disappeared from Edith’s eyes. There was guilt in them. There was guilt attached to every atom in the family… “Yes, my dear. I will make it so he will stay here.”  
Grantaire looked down at his microphone. He opened his mouth to say the words which had been absent for many years. ‘I love you.’ Instead, he turned the microphone off and watched his mother leave. He sighed as he closed his eyes, rubbing his face in frustration.


	2. Chapter 2

As per usual, Grantaire stayed cooped up in his room, flicking through pages, lying on the floor. His shoulder rubbed against the window to the other room in which he decided to name it the ‘Apollo room’. There, he would catch glimpses of the poetic god as he roamed around the room, cleaning.

It had only been two days since he was recruited yet Enjolras had visited the room five times and counting. At this point Grantaire could detect the sound of the door creaking and immediately he would be summoned to his microphone. 

In random moments in the past two days he would remember the hand which was gently pressed against the window, trying to connect with Grantaire. The very memory brought heat to his cheeks- he believed his feelings towards Enjolras stemmed from his loneliness- that the emotions were only amplified. Of course, to Enjolras, his feelings were not reciprocated. How could it? Enjolras had other friends and best of all had the gift of being confident enough to go outside. Lucky- and goddammit beautiful but nevertheless still a bastard- the man he was...

He felt a slight vibration on his shoulder which was leaning against the glass as he heard a creak. Immediately, Grantaire shuffled to sit up, and turn on the microphone. “Who is it?” He said.  
“It’s me, R,” Enjolras spoke loudly as he strolled in, his face neutral as usual.  
“Who told you to call me ‘R’?”  
“You know who.” He said as he wandered about, searching for books on the shelf.  
“Éponine.”  
“The one and only.” He picked a book, observed it with a frown which consequently made Grantaire smile. “Did I tell you you remind me of Patroclus?”  
Grantaire froze. When focusing more, he realised which book Enjolras was holding. Ah, Greek mythology. To be honest he was elated that, of all books, Enjolras selected this. For quite some time he had imagined Enjolras to be one of the gods written in the old poems. “Me? Patroclus? I hope not. If I remember correctly Apollo was the cause of Patroclus’ death.”

Enjolras threw the book up in the air playfully and caught it and repeated the action. “I don’t see why that’s important.”  
The only thing Grantaire could focus on was his Adam’s apple as he talked. And his deep voice. And his strong, clear-cut facial structure. Grantaire gulped. “You’re my Apollo.” Shit, he slipped up. Damn his thoughts for distracting him!

The book fell on the floor as Enjolras stared at the window but all he could see was his own face. He shook his head. “I suppose that’s a compliment…”  
Quick! In panic, he tried to diffuse the situation. Talk about any-fucking-thing else! “I like seeing your wide eyes." Oh no. It wasn't his fault; Enjolras' was so wide from surprise, there was nowhere else to look at. Nevertheless, he had dug himself a hole, so why not a grave? "I thought blue was just one colour- but you always prove me wrong. Every time I look at you, they're different.” He searched for any kind of reaction this might have invoked in the blond man. What would he say? How would he react? 

...The silence was a good enough of an indicator. “I’m sorry, I…” Grantaire bit his lip, “I just say things I think out loud. No filter and all that.” He chuckled to himself.  
Exaggerating his movements, Enjolras nodded excessively then he picked up the book he had dropped on his feet. “Do you have an Achilles?”  
“...What?”  
Enjolras looked up. “Nevermind.” He muttered.

“Enjolras, my dear?” A familiar voice called out from the room, “Can you set up the dinner?”  
“Yes.” He called back. Once again he looked at the mirror. Grantaire assumed he wanted to look at his own face- for sure if he was Enjolras he would never lift his eyes off from his reflection, “As always our conversations are cut off soon. I hope you come out to eat with your family.”  
Grantaire shook his head.  
“Shame.” He sighed.

With faint energy, Enjolras walked to the door before looking back briefly, afraid if his eyes would cast a harsh spell, “Don’t worry, I won’t be there. I eat elsewhere. Meet your family. Éponine wants it.”  
“Éponine can eat with me.” Grantaire closed his eyes, imagining he was in the same room as he was, “Here.”  
There was no reaction and this triggered another apology from Grantaire but as he opened his eyes he realised Enjolras was no longer in the room.


	3. Chapter 3

Éponine was not what one would call a... polite eater. She was known in the family to grab food with her bare hands and devour like an animal. Grantaire could never figure out when this type of eating started, but he never complained. Watching her eat furiously like it was her last meal motivated him to taste the food on the tip of his tongue.

It had been awhile since he had company while he ate. It was uncomfortable to reveal his face to anyone, even to Éponine. To be fair she had never shown outright disgust, but it was impossible to hear others’ thoughts, so the idea of a judgemental mind eroded him.

Nevertheless he scoffed as she ate, putting food into his mouth. With his mouth full, he asked, “I’ve been thinking about romance lately.”  
She paused for a moment before she wiped her mouth. With equal amounts of food as his in her mouth, she spoke, “Oh? Did you find someone finally? Was it the Apollo guy? Or are we talking about celebrities here?”  
He chuckled as he shook his head. “No. There’s romance in the book I’m reading, that’s all.”  
She chewed heavily. “Really, R?”  
“Yeah, really.”  
Éponine shrugged as she continued eating.

“Do you have anyone dear?”  
Éponine dropped her hands on her plate as she lifted her head to look at him. “Are you okay, cousin?”  
“Yeah. Why?”  
“Nothin’. It just really seems like you’ve become more romantic.”  
Grantaire smiled. “No.”  
“Yes, cousin. It’s really obvious. You’ve invited me here obviously to talk about your romance, albeit with an actual person or a fictional character.”  
“Fictional.”  
“Then what book?” She pressed, trying to poke holes in his already transparent lies.  
“I don’t want to tell you.”  
“We’re talking about Enjolras, aren’t we.” She stated as a fact.

Grantaire sighed as he dropped his cutlery on his plate messily, “I really like him.”  
“Why though?” She leaned in.  
He lifted his eyebrow, “Have you looked at him?”  
“He hasn’t looked at you.” Éponine smirked.

Grantaire pouted as he confiscated her plate. “No eating privileges for you.”  
“Eh, I already devoured everything anyway.” She stretched her arms out as she stood up, hands on her belly as if she was pregnant, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. Your parents are not the most… the best…. Uh… they may not react well. So I’ll keep quiet about the whole thing.”

As Éponine reached for the door knob, Grantaire called out, “Promise me that’ll extend to Enjolras as well?”  
“I promise.” She rolled her eyes as she opened the door. Upon seeing who was in front of her she gasped.

Before Grantaire could peak out to see who she was surprised to see, Éponine reacted quickly and shut the door. Apparently Enjolras was outside, having heard their conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To Get_Below_My_Line_Of_Vision: 질투가 너를 이기게하지마 (-Did my Google translate work?) But seriously, I hope you feel better very soon. Sending lots of love <3 <3 <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is crap!

A quiet swear whispered through Éponine’s lips as her breathing shallowed. In front of her was a wooden door to Grantaire’s room- and she wanted to make sure that was all she could see. If she were to turn around she would see Enjolras again. No, no, no. He couldn’t have seen everything. He couldn’t have heard everything. She cursed under breath once more.

“That’s not a nice thing to say,” The man behind her commented.  
Enjolras was still here. Frankly Éponine wanted to hit her head against the door in frustration. “What did you hear?”  
There was a pause. “Nothing.”  
Hopeful, she spun around, “Nothing?”  
His cheeks her pink as if he was holding his breath. “Mhm.”  
“You’re lying.”  
He stared at her as if he was a child caught red-handed. “Well…” He cocked his head, “Now that you mention it…”  
“Oh god,” She pressed her hand on her sweaty forehead as she paced around. “Oh god, R’s gonna kill me.” Elegantly, she grabbed Enjolras’ hand and led him away from Grantaire’s room.

“I swear I didn’t hear anything bad.” He tried to reassure her, “At least nothing which I didn’t want to hear.”  
“That’s great.” She spun around. “But- Wait, what did you hear? Truthfully, Apollo.”  
He shifted on his spot, awkwarded out by the nickname, “I heard… you talk about a book.”  
“You were that early in the conversation?” She almost slapped him. “And you didn’t walk away?”  
“In my defence-”  
“You have no defence!”  
“In my defence,” He spoke over her, “I thought it would be kept a secret as long as I didn’t tell anybody.”  
“That’s a terrible philosophy, Apollo.”  
“Don’t call me that!”  
She crossed her arms. “Why not?”  
“Because only Grantaire can call me that!”

After a brief moment of silence, Éponine burst out into laughter. “Oh, you like R, huh?” Then she frowned. “But why? His personality is… dead. And I don’t mean that as scarce or a nonexistent personality, I meant ‘dead’ as in that he acts like he’s a cynic and a pessimist all the time.”  
“I don’t like him- not in that way. We’re friends.”  
She rolled her eyes. “What else did you hear?”  
“Nothing! Nothing else, I swear.”  
“A lie.”  
“You’re not a lie detector, Éponine.”  
“Are you sure? ‘Cause it’s so obvious you’re talking out of your arse.”  
“I swear. Nothing.”

She huffed out her nose. “Either way, you haven’t seen him- and I doubt you ever will.”  
“I can.”  
She looked up at him and in response he looked away. She gasped. “Oh. I get it. You want to let yourself like him once you get to meet him properly. That’s pretty shallow, don’t you think?”  
“You must think you’re a detective.”  
“I just want R to be happy.”

He stepped away to give the two distance. “I’m going. I have a job to perform and I don’t want to waste time talking about my ‘feelings’.”  
She watched him leave with an awkward, off-balance walk.

On one hand the situation was great! The two shared an attraction towards one another. But it didn’t take a genius to understand that their relationship wouldn’t work. It was just childish love based on mutual interest. As soon as Grantaire stepped out of his room, Enjolras would see the so-called horror. Even if they were to make it past that stage in the relationship, Enjolras’ family name wouldn’t be enough to carry approval to Edith and Celestin.  
To put it frankly, their love was doomed.

Éponine began fidgeting her dress. More than anything in the world she wanted to help her cousin. He was the only one to treat her as family.   
She bit her lip. “Crap.” She really wanted to help.

**Author's Note:**

> To make you happy. Get well soon.


End file.
